


The Ample Roaming Drifting Indigo Stronghold

by shopfront



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Howl's Moving Castle Fusion, F/F, First Meetings, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:40:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26139031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shopfront/pseuds/shopfront
Summary: When Yaz asked for directions to somewhere she could sleep for the night, all she had really hoped for was a soft patch of heather or a little hollow out of the wind. So when the clouds parted to reveal a great hovering blue castle with a ladder being lowered down from it, Yaz didn’t hesitate. Sure, she was old now and her newly creaking joints weren't really up to the climb. But she wanted to know what was up there, and it wasn’t like she had anywhere else to go, anyway.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9
Collections: Alternate Universe Exchange 2020





	The Ample Roaming Drifting Indigo Stronghold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FictionPenned](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionPenned/gifts).



It was a muttered argument that woke Yaz, even before she heard the two pairs of footsteps thundering down the stairs one after another. The first person stopped at the base of the stairs, and there was a brief lull before she heard the soft thump of a collision and quiet cursing. Certain that she could feel eyes burning into the back of her head as the whispering kicked up a notch, Yaz tried very hard not to shift too obviously in her chair - no matter how much her lower back was aching.

“Who the hell is that?” one of the strangers hissed, still trying to keep his voice down.

“Why would you assume that I know? I went to bed _and_ I got up at the same time that you did, sunshine.”

“The Porthaven door is ringing,” interrupted a female voice. It was the same low, sweet voice ofIdris, the creature in the fireplace who had been striking deals with Yaz deep into the night. “Has rung. Will ring. Oh dear, I’ve got it wrong again, haven’t I?”

One of the men let out a beleaguered groan, and then a bell did chime and he went dashing past Yaz’s chair towards the door. Whomever the other set of footsteps belonged to, he continued walking more slowly across the room as if he was considering her sleeping form.

Yaz pretended to stir as the door was opened and the quiet hum of conversation began outside.

“Who is this, Idris?” asked the man nearest to Yaz. Half-opening one eye, she caught a glimpse of an amused looking older man before she scrunched her eyes shut again and faked a yawn.

“She will wander in from the waste and place my heart back in its true hearth,” Idris said just asthe door slammed and the other man thundered back up the steps.

“You let someone in from the waste?!” he asked with a yelp, nearly tripping on the top stair in his rush. Yaz stretched and sat up, blinking in the morning light and looking around as if she was surprised to see new people around her.

“Come on, Ryan. She hardly looks like the Master of the Waste now, does she?” the older man replied.

Ryan looked outraged by the suggestion. “You don’t know that, Graham! It could be a trick. He’s disguised himself before!”

Yaz snorted, and two sets of eyes swung around to fix on her. Feeling vaguely alarmed by the scrutiny, she quickly stood up and bustled over to check that Idris still had enough wood. “I’m hardly a witch or wizard,” she said as she poked at the coals and began to sweep up some of the ash that had accumulated while she slept. “My name’s Yaz, and I’m just the new cleaning lady. Idris said you’ll probably be needing one soon.”

“Dust and decay,” Idris agreed. “Ships through my mouth and disconnected platforms.”

“Precisely! That sounds like it could get awful messy if you’re not careful.”

Once she’d finished with the ash and dusted her hands clean, she turned back around to find the men frowning and exchanging pointed glances.

“Now, look. I can appreciate that you might want a job to do. But I don’t know how I feel about you cleaning this huge old place while we just put our feet up,” Graham said.

“Yeah, Graham’s right,” Ryan agreed. “It’s not really our style.”

Yaz huffed in surprise. “Well it’s not exactly my dream job either, mate.”

“Right. Good! That’s good, then. So why don’t you just join us at this here table instead and I reckon we can find something else for you to do later if you really want,” Graham said as he dropped down into a chair at the dining table and kicked at another to nudge it out, beckoning for Yaz to take it. “Not that it matters much. I’m only here because my grandson was looking for an apprenticeship, and the Doctor thought he had talent so-”

“I do have talent,” Ryan interrupted, indignant.

“’Course you do, that’s not my point. She said you’ve got a right promising talent, I do remember,” Graham agreed before turning back to Yaz. “My point is that Ryan’s the reason we’re here, but she ain’t exactly kicked me out for not having any magic, either. That’s all I’m saying. The Doc is a good sort of witch, and I reckon you’ll be just fine here with us if you're needing somewhere to stay.”

“Right-o, good to know. Cheers,” Yaz said slowly as she took the offered seat. She twisted her head as she settled, making her stiff neck crack and smirking when Graham and Ryan both winced. “It's nice to be out of the cold and damp for a bit, at least.”

“Speaking of cold and damp,” Idris called from the fireplace.

“What about it?” Ryan asked.

“You’ll need the- oh, what’s the word? The thing that was wanted for the cold and the damp.”

Ryan looked at them both beseechingly, but Yaz just starred back blankly and Graham shook his head.

“Don’t look at me,” Graham said. “I never took an order for anything about damp. I ain’t the one who got taught what all those things on the shelf that don't need to be custom ordered are for either, if she's just got her tenses muddled up again.”

Confused, Yaz watched Ryan hurry over to a bookshelf and start rummaging through the bottles on it, counting under his breath as he went. Eventually he made an ‘aha’ noise and plucked one out, holding it triumphantly aloft just as the door chimed again.

“Thanks, Idris,” Ryan said as he thundered back down the stairs again with the bottle in hand, pausing only to wave a hand in front of himself and suddenly grow a salt and pepper beard.

“Customers,” Graham said with a ‘what can you do’ shrug when Yaz looked at him in confusion. There was a loud clicking sound and then the light in the room changed, growing warm and dim just as Ryan opened the door.

Intrigued, Yaz clambered slowly back to her feet and followed Ryan.

“Won’t take a minute, he’s just gotta give someone a potion or a charm or something,” Graham called after her. But Yaz’s attention was already caught by the glinting of light off metal that she could see over Ryan’s shoulder. Slowly, painstakingly, she clambered down the stairs, barely noticing when Ryan bid the customer farewell and squeezed back around her.

“That’s the Citadel,” she breathed as she stood frozen in the doorway, only her grip on the doorframe holding her up as she stared out, stunned, at the street before them. “This is Gallifrey City!”

Ryan hovered behind her. “Yeah, that’s right,” he said, sounding nervous. “Now come on, get back in here. We’ve probably got other people waiting by now.”

“Quickly,” Graham called from inside, the wariness in his tone matching Ryan’s. “We really don’t want to attract attention here just at the minute.”

Still too stunned to protest, Yaz let Ryan tug her back inside far enough for him to shut the door. Immediately he turned the handle and it made the same clicking sound again with each turn, while a large crystal growing up from the floor beside the doorway changed colour with each click. Yaz watched it shift from colour to colour, and the light at the windows changed each time. But there were no more chiming bells and, after a moment, Ryan just shrugged and made his way back up the stairs.

“Fancy a spot of breakfast?” Graham asked, interrupting Yaz’s examination of the door mechanism. If she could just figure out how-

“We’ve not got anything fancy, but the bread’s fresh,” Ryan called.

Yaz sighed. “Oh, alright,” she muttered as she went to join them. Once she’d reached the top of the stairs, she found them both rummaging around a cluttered sideboard, ignoring the wrapped packets of meat, cartons of eggs, and even the small baskets of mushrooms and tomatoes alongside little cups of beans in sauce. “Don’t you want any of that?” she asked, when Ryan grabbed just a loaf of bread and dish of butter.

“Not much point. Idris gets too easily distracted,” Graham said, his fists full of plates, cutlery, and jars of condiments. He did at least grab an extra big bowl of fruit though, and try to balance it precariously on top of everything else in his hands.

Idris trilled vaguely in agreement, burbling away to herself too quietly for Yaz to hear.

“Distracted?” Yaz asked skeptically. “Surely if you’re watching the pan-”

“Nah,” Ryan said, shaking his head and waving a finger towards his own face. “We thought the same thing once, right before she accidentally burnt Graham’s eyebrows off. Right funny sight, to be fair, but it ain’t worth trying unless the Doctor’s here.”

Yaz peered skeptically at Idris, and the fire seemed to peer back at her. It didn’t feel strange to have a magical fire staring at her. It hadn’t the night before either, even though Yaz had hardly been expecting a talking fire in the hearth when she’d first tumbled in the door.

“I reckon I’ll take that chance,” Yaz decided with a nod.

Pushing up her sleeves and grabbing one of the frypans off the wall, Yaz strode more confidently towards Idris than she really felt when her knees were cracking and her lower back ached. But Idris was muttering away to herself more excitedly in the hearth now, and she held very still when Yaz tried to balance the pan above her hottest flames.

By the time everything was close to done, Ryan was laughing heartily behind her and Graham was muttering something resentful that she ignored. Looking for something to wrap her hand with before she pulled the hot pan off Idris, Yaz got ready to serve up. Just as she was almost ready to plate the eggs and veggies so she could ferry them to the table, the door chimed again.

This time it swung open immediately in a blaze of golden light. Squinting against the glare, Yaz raised a hand to shield her eyes - only to stare as the door shut again and she found herself looking at a very familiar figure.

Eyes wide and cheeks flushing, Yaz watched the other woman climb the stairs. She seemed to be a brunette now, but she was every bit as beautiful as before when she shook out her jacket and removed her top hat. Yaz licked her lips absentmindedly as the woman ruffled her hair. Magic dripped from her fingers like starlight, turning her hair blonde - and with the disguise gone, Yaz’s thoughts flew right back to the day before and the feel of those bright strands beneath her fingers.

Now Yaz was entirely certain this was the same woman.

She’d introduced herself as ‘The Doctor, just The Doctor, pleased to meet you, how can I help?’, and gently carried Yaz to the uppermost balcony at her parent’s house. Her warm arms had held Yaz so very close while they danced across rooftops together, fleeing from the soldiers after she was done scolding them about their guns.

It made Yaz's heart go pitter-patter just thinking about it, and her departing kiss had left Yaz speechless right as her family had burst through the balcony door. They'd been full of a thousand questions about what Yaz was doing with a witch, but Yaz hadn’t answered any of them. She'd been too busy watching the Doctor dancing away across rooftops again, drawing off their pursuers and only looking back to wink.

“Hello, Yaz-under-a-spell,” the Doctor said as she crossed the room and paused by the fire.

She held her hands out to the flame to warm them. Idris swirled herself up around the Doctor’s fingers in response, long tendrils of golden light eagerly reaching out to caress her skin in welcome before they subsided back into flames once more. The Doctor picked up the sizzling pan once Idris was done, warmly telling the little fire that, “you seem unusually focused this morning, dear.”

“Er, hiya,” Yaz said with an awkward little wave as she stumbled back out of the way, practically falling into her seat at the table. She couldn’t tear her eyes away as the Doctor slid everything out of the pan and onto the plate Yaz had left ready and waiting, and followed her over.

Ryan frowned. “Wait, I thought you were here because of Idris? How’d you know the Doctor?”

Yaz bit her lip. “Um-”

“Yaz and I went on a date yesterday,” the Doctor said, as she squeezed in between Graham and Yaz. “Ooh, baked beans, my favourite. That was a date, wasn’t it, Yaz? I get confused sometimes, but it did _feel_ like a date.”

“Well, er, I suppose you kinda walked me to-”

“Escort duty! Sounds like a date. Very seventeenth century of me, really,” the Doctor agreed eagerly. “Some of my favourite courtships happened in that century.”

“The Doctor likes to use her magic to travel in time,” Graham explained in a conspiratorial tone when Yaz’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

The Doctor pulled a face. “I suppose I do! Well, sort of. It takes magic and memories, and a little bit of an illusion spell here and there. Then you can break through if you’re careful- but it’s not _strictly_ time travel, except sometimes it can be, and- Well. It’s a bit difficult to explain. Fun though, that’s the important bit.”

“…right,” Yaz said.

“But enough about that. Come on, dig in!” the Doctor said cheerily as she picked up her fork.

Flustered, Yaz reached for her own knife and fork, preparing to serve herself from the central plate. But as she did she noticed Ryan watching her and the smug look on his face when he leant closer.

“You two, you’re right cute together,” Ryan whispered in her ear. Hunching her shoulders, Yaz tried to appear as old as possible and not at all worth gossiping about.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said as she grabbed some eggs and plucked a fig from the fruit bowl. “I’m just a regular old human lady, why would the Doctor be interested in me?”

But when she chanced another glance at Ryan, he didn’t look convinced. Instead, he just looked amused as she huffed and glared.

“Don’t worry,” he said, shoving a piece of bread and marmalade in his mouth. “It’s a bit hard to dislodge an idea once the Doctor gets one into her head. I don’t reckon's she sending you away anywhere, least not before she’s convinced you it really was a date. Maybe not till you've agreed to go on another one, too. A proper one.”

Then he nonchalantly helped himself to the plate of cooked foods and left Yaz blinking in silence while her breakfast cooled. Around them Graham was attempting a disjointed half-shouted conversation with Idris and the Doctor kept smiling at her brightly each time their elbows bumped, and it wasn't quite what Yaz had in mind when she'd painstakingly climbed that ladder....

But it wasn't half-bad, either.


End file.
